


Fate Twisted

by Sarunamii



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, Child Abuse, F/M, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg, Physical Abuse, Pre-Series, Rape, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 03:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17236694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarunamii/pseuds/Sarunamii
Summary: Using Sam and the other "demon's kids" as leverage, a human monster kidnaps Dean and makes a twisted deal with the yellow-eyed demon.





	Fate Twisted

Dean glared angrily at their captor who simply ignored the teenager's fruitless struggles and calmly went about setting up his summoning spell. He wasn’t a tall man, actually just a few inches shorter than the boy’s father, but he was broad, balding and pudgy in all the wrong places. His scraggly beard covered the bottom of his face giving the impression of not caring much about personal hygiene. But his eyes were those of an intelligent calculating schemer.

Beside Dean, Sammy wriggled and grunted frustratedly. Secured to that same wall were a dozen or so other kids all Sam’s age and all showing varying degrees of anger and fear. In his insane ramblings, the man called them the “demon’s kids” and talked of making a deal. For what, Dean was a little unclear, but he feared it had something to do with him since he was the odd man out of the bunch. The man struck a match and lit the contents of his bowl on fire causing the older brother to stiffen at the sudden appearance of a possessed man who smiled sickly over at them, flashing strange yellow eyes.

They couldn’t hear what the two adults were saying, but the kiss ending the conversation had their captor marching back towards them past the strange symbols painted on the floor. He reached around and cut the ropes behind the young teenager’s back and dragged Dean away from his younger brother’s muffled sounds of protest. With a menacing grin the demon grasped Dean’s face and a painful heat spread from his touch ending in agonizing cramps deep in his gut and around his crotch. He writhed on the floor in agony where he was dropped as their kidnapper scraped away at the painted floor. The demon crossed to “his” children and whisked them away, leaving only silent echoes of Sam’s gagged growls and the other children’s whimpers.

When the pain finally abated and Dean lay panting on the floor, the man kneeled down beside him and removed the gag. “Let’s get you to your new home.”

“Where’d my brother go?” Dean demanded his fear for the ten-year-old overriding any fear he had for himself.

The man shrugged his unconcern plainly visible as he pulled the boy to his feet and towards a large trunk covered with more symbols similar to the ones painted on the floor.

His heart pounded in his throat and Dean kicked out when the man tried to force him into the confined space. The adult was still stronger than the fourteen-year-old and, all too soon, Dean was locked in the cramped space – knees pressed to his chest – darkness pressing in claustrophobically with a new gag firmly in place. The trunk rocked as an outside force moved it and soon Dean felt the familiar motion of a car ride as he bit back his own fearful whimpers.

Hours later the smooth paved feeling gave way to rougher terrain, before finally ceasing altogether. The trunk was shifted before being dropped with a thud and a surprised gasp escaped Dean. One end was lifted and the boy found himself sliding towards the end where his head was as someone, probably the man, dragged the trunk by the lifted end. Another long rough journey before the trunk was dropped completely.

Dean strained to hear past the barrier of the cushioned walls, but there was only silence. He didn’t know how long it was before the lid was finally opened and rough hands were pulling him out into the blinding light. He was still feeling the painful tingling as his limbs woke up from their cramped positions as the man fastened a dog training collar around his neck and removed the gag.

“What do you want from me,” Dean gritted out pulling away from the overly friendly man.

“Everything,” the man replied cryptically. 

Then his training started, and Dean learned what “everything” meant as his innocence was ripped away brutally by “Master” (as he was forced to call the man that enslaved him). The first pregnancy, only a year later, came as an utter shock as Dean began to really learn about the changes the demon had made to his body as part of the deal. The baby came prematurely and too underdeveloped to survive. Despite his hatred of the changes Master had forced on him, Dean found himself grieving the loss and death of the child.

The second child was born only 8 months after the death of the first. The boy only stayed with Dean a few days before his constant crying annoyed Master too much. The older man disappeared into the night leaving Dean straining against the chain leash that kept him confined to the bedroom every night. When he returned a few hours later the child was nowhere in sight. He ordered Dean back into bed and took what he wanted as he wished the boy a happy sixteenth birthday.

A few months later a severe beating aborted a new pregnancy, and fight was left in Dean faded into numb submission. Master then decided the teen was trained enough to be allowed a walk outside. He unlatched the leash from the bed frame and led the pale boy out into the secluded clearing. Wilderness surrounded the house for miles and the lush new summer growth only added to the feeling of isolation.

Meekly Dean followed Master where he was directed, barely glancing around at their surroundings. Pleased with his pet’s behavior, Master promised a reward. A few weeks later he brought home a large puppy. Even so, Dean could tell Master was growing bored with him. He prayed that meant he would be set free, but was sure that it actually meant his death was growing closer.

When Master brought home another boy, younger than Dean had been when he was first brought to that lonely house, Dean felt guiltily relieved there would be someone else for Master to focus on, as he was already showing the early signs of a fourth pregnancy. Whatever the demon had done to him, getting pregnant so easily was definitely one of the top things he hated the most. Master’s swelling “knot” was right up there with it. Being stuck with your rapist inside you for hours was the worst.

The new boy was full of spirit and fought hard against master’s rules, but his body had not been changed the same way Dean’s had, and the rough treatment only left him with bruises and scars. If Master didn’t want to tear him, he had to use lube and prepare the hole not designed for penetration. To the older man’s growing frustration, he was having a harder time finding something the demons would want to trade for this time. That frustration, of course, was continually taken out on the captured boys.

Dean and Dog quietly approached the shivering boy where he laid curled up bleeding on the floor where Master had dropped him. Nosing him with a whine, Dog tried to comfort the boy, while Dean, at the end of his leash, slid silently down the wall just within touching range. Ever fearful that Master was listening in somehow, Dean said nothing. He had learned quickly not to break that rule, and instead hummed quietly. Boy, as Dean called him in his head never having learned his name, sniffled and scooted closer resting his head in the older teen’s lap.

“I wanna go home,” Boy whispered and Dean stroked his hair soothingly. He wasn’t on a leash, but his injuries prevented him from moving too far in any direction. Dog licked his face and sat protectively in front of the pair.

When Master came home that evening from his day out, Dean went to him willingly and begged for Boy’s freedom with rusty words and submissive behavior. At first Master had glared at the sound of his voice, but then he merely shrugged and said, “Keep me interested.” It was a rough night, but Dean struggled to comply and the next day Boy was hauled away.

The twins were immediately taken from Dean as he still gasped from the labor pains. Remembering Boy, Dean bit back his questions of where the babies were taken and tried to keep Master entertained and interested. The longer the time that passed the harder that became. When Dog became too protective, Master hauled him off too. Eventually Master starting taking longer and longer trips; becoming more and more violent when he was there. Fewer pregnancies made it to full term. Six years and seven pregnancies later, Dean had little hope of ever leaving that house ever again. He was at the start of a new pregnancy and Master had just left on a new trip taking the latest baby, a girl, away with him.

Dean sipped at the water left him and stared listlessly out the small window. At first the day was just like any other – quiet and dull. His stomach rumbled with hunger at the same time as the queasiness had him clenching his teeth and pressing his forehead against the cool glass. A bird flittered around collecting twigs and straw for its nest. Dean watched it passively. The last pregnancy had been a close call and he was surprised that the premature baby had survived. He wondered again what Master did with his children, but knew from experience not to ask.

Rubbing absently at the collar that had grown almost too-tight, Dean hoped Master would replace it when he came back. Unless Master managed another deal with the demons, Dean would soon completely outgrow the current one. Master hated that he was growing into a tall, adult man. The captive shivered remembering the beating he received for growing taller than Master. There was nothing he could do about that though, unlike the new growth of hair that he carefully removed daily when Master was around. It was alright for Master to be a hairy slob, but not for Dean – another rule that was added violently when Dean had gone through puberty.

Unfamiliar movement caught his eyes and Dean turned his head trying to peer past the glass pane around the edge of the house. No luck. Whatever it was had move out of his field of vision. Dean huffed quietly and settled back down. He was about to write it off as his imagination when he heard the creak of the door. It couldn’t be Master already. It was too soon. Setting his water down, Dean stood and padded towards the door into his room. The leash kept him a few feet from the locked door, but he tilted his ear towards it and listened for the muffled sounds of movement through it. Whoever or whatever it was either hadn’t moved past the front door or was making a special effort to move stealthily. 

His door knob jiggled. Stealthy it was. Hope flowed from his chest. Were they here to steal him away from Master? Then fear. He knew what to expect from Master. Mostly. What if this intruder was worse than Master?

The door swung open and Dean stepped back warily. A big dark-haired man straightened up taking up the whole door way. His eyes scanned Dean from head to toe before stopping on his face. “Dean?” came the hesitant question as he took a careful step forward.

In the back of his mind, Dean wondered at the man’s familiar features even while panic overrode his other senses. He scrambled back, putting the bed between them, inwardly cursing the hated leash. Soft steps and another figure appeared behind the first man.

“Dad?” a quiet voice, the boy was probably only a few years younger than Dean, but already several inches taller. His teenaged-gangliness had already started to fill out into that of a man.

The older man didn’t respond to his son, but held his hands out, trying to show he meant no harm. Cautiously he approached Dean, who struggled to choke down his fear. This man knew his name. Maybe he knew him from before Master.

Steadying himself, Dean pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between himself and the man. He tilted his head to the side and indicated the lock on the collar. Coarse finger tips brushed his neck as the man fiddled with the lock.

“Sammy,” the man started turning back towards the boy. 

Dean started at the familiar name. His eyes latched on to the boy’s face before jolting to the man. Could it be? “Dad?” his voice was rough from dis-use as he interrupted whatever the older man had been asking or saying to the younger.

His father turned back to him with watery eyes betraying his own emotions, “Yeah, Dean. It’s me.” He swallowed harshly and continued, “Sammy’s going to get this lock open and then we’re getting you out of here.”

Only then did Dean realize that his younger brother had entered the room completely. His hands were softer as he manipulated the lock open and when the hated collar fell away Dean pulled him into a rough hug. “I thought the demon took you.”

“He took me back to the motel and left me there,” Sam replied when Dean finally let him go. John handed Dean his own flannel button up shirt, leaving himself in just a white t-shirt. Dean put it on and promptly felt the morning sickness kick in. He swallowed it back just barely managing not to puke all over himself or his family. They look worriedly at him, but said nothing about it for the moment.

“Do you have jeans or sweats or something?” his father asked. It was still too cold outside to be wondering around in only boxer shorts.

A shake of the head. There wasn’t even a blanket or a sheet in the room to be used. With no other option the father ushered his sons out of the house into the cold outdoor air. Dean hesitated in the entrance, and then as if afraid to ask the question stared down at his toes, “What about…Master?” When his question only received silence he tentatively looked up. 

The confusion that warred with anger on his father’s face was evident. “He won’t ever touch you again,” John growled out.

Shaking his head the older son tried again, “Did you…get him? …Where is he?”

“We thought we’d find him here,” Sam supplied a little reluctant to admit.

“But we will get him!” their father declared insistently.

A part of Dean relaxed. Master was still alive. That meant there was still a chance he could find out what the man had done with his babies. “I need to know,” he whispered. “He took them from me and I need to know.”

It felt strange to be able to breathe so easily and to be wearing more than the boxer shorts Master typically allowed, but Dean hid his discomfort for the strangeness. Instead he watched his new found family and looked for his place in it.

Dean did his best to hide the lingering morning sickness, but there wasn’t enough space and his father and brother were too observant to miss it. When they asked about his sickness, he deflected and twisted the conversation around to something different. He did relish being allowed to speak and go outdoors. The first few times he started out of whatever motel they were holed up in at the moment, Dean would hesitate at the door before steeling himself and glaring defiantly at the others, daring them to stop him. When they never did, he quit glaring the challenge their direction.

“He took my babies,” Dean finally admitted to his father one evening sitting on a park bench staring up at the stars.

John looked at him surprised, “Babies…?” He trailed off not entirely sure what he wanted to ask. Finally asked, “Was there a girl there…?”

A nervous glance and Dean shook his head. “The deal he made with the demon,” because his father already knew from Sammy that his kidnapper had made some deal with the yellow-eyed demon that had killed their mother, “It – it changed me…” An uneasy shifting, “He didn’t need a girl…He – he had me.”

His father just stared at him – comprehension slow in coming, “You mean you – you had…you got…pregnant?”

“Several times…Am again,” the young man, shrinking in on himself shame coloring his cheeks, had his head bowed as he watched his father out the corner of his eye.

“Dean,” what could he possibly say to that? John took a moment to calm himself down. His son had lived through Hell on earth and still couldn’t quite tell when there was anger that wasn’t directed at him. “I’m sorry, son.”

That was not what Dean was expecting. He blinked and lifted his head turning to face John completely, “What?”

“How many children did he take from you?”

The look he shot his father was heart breaking in the amount of suspicion it held, “Uh…seven.”

“Seven?” John couldn’t help his startled gasp. “You got pregnant seven times?”

“No. More than that. Only seven made it to full term.”

John gaped at him. Dean had never stopped to think about how often a woman would get pregnant. Now that he did stop and think about it, there were normally at least two years or longer between most families’ kids, not just the barely nine months Dean had between his. With all the miscarriages Dean had had, if he had been a woman, it most likely would have caused him to have trouble conceiving, but that was another side effect of the demon’s meddling in his biology.

An arm around his shoulders hugged Dean close to his father. “We’ll find out what happened to them. I promise,” John assured him and Dean relaxed against the older man. Is this what safe felt like? They sat in a comfortable silence Dean couldn’t remember ever having before only broken by John’s “Is that why you’ve been throwing up? You have morning sickness?” The father half laughed, “Not something I ever expected to be talking to my son about.”

“Will you tell Sam?” Dean asked after a moment. It was hard enough to have this conversation once. He didn’t think he’d be ready to have it again anytime soon. There was no hesitation in his father’s affirmative reply, and Dean suddenly wished he hadn’t missed out on this over the last eight years. That jerk had stolen so much from him, and he didn’t even know his name.

“You know Sammy wants to go to college,” Dean remarked casually, half terrified of his father’s reaction. They had been reunited for almost six months and Sam’s 18th birthday was coming up quickly.

“I know,” John grumped twisting his mug of coffee in his hands, faintly watching his oldest son plop heavily in the chair across from him. Both he and his youngest had been trying to convince Dean they should settle somewhere until after the baby was born. He was good at disguising the baby bump as belly fat, but the limited space in the car was obviously taxing him. Dean, however, wouldn’t hear of it as if afraid settling down any length of time meant going back into that room with the leash around his neck. Sometimes the only thing that kept the nightmares at bay was the soothing sound of road noise speeding past.

“I’m afraid he’ll be too vulnerable staying in one place for that long,” the elder admitted begrudgingly.

Dean gazed at his father thoughtfully, “You’ve taught him everything you know about warding off demons and he knows that the demon is after him.” He was grateful they could have this conversation so calmly. Too often the only thing that kept the father and youngest son from having a screaming fight was Dean’s presence. The first few fights they had to search hours to find where he had hidden himself away fearful of the pain that always accompanied such anger. The older son had almost been confused when no punches were thrown. It only took a few times for the pair to realize what was causing the fear and they struggled to keep their fights more civil, or at least out of Dean’s hearing.

“It’s hard to let go,” John rubbed the back of his neck wearily. “I just want to keep you boys safe.”

“But you can’t always.”

“I know.”

John was still clearly not happy about it, but he relented and even agreed to drive Sammy to the college of his choice. Sam almost fainted with shock when their father agreed to it, but reeled his jaw back up from the floor and accepted it as graciously as any other eighteen-year-old boy would.

Dean agreed to stay with him for a few weeks as long as he got a place with a big yard close to other houses. Then once he was ready to go again, John would come pick him up. The baby was due a month before Stanford, Sam’s choice of college, started, so it was agreed, mostly by John and Sam, they would go early. John would stay until the baby was born and then follow a few goose trails that might turn into leads before coming back for Dean.

July found the Winchesters touring houses with an overly enthusiastic realtor. A couple of the houses were rejected immediately when Dean refused to even enter those. Sam couldn’t tell what the difference between those and some his older brother had no problem with, but didn’t mind not looking at them. The realtor had somehow gotten the impression they were willing to spend more money than they actually were.

The house they finally agreed on, with a much more sedate realtor, was a modest two bedroom house with a smaller yard, but closer to the city park. Neither boy asked where the money was coming from, but John paid for it all up front cash, and the first week was spent setting up every ward he knew.

Dean didn’t help as much as he wanted but instead found them furniture at cut-rate prices. They had barely got the last piece delivered when the baby decided to come. Despite the older son’s protests that he’d always delivered fine on his own before, John had enlisted the aid of a woman whose husband he had hunted with a few times. At first she wasn’t keen on the idea of doing anything for John, but she caved. Ellen, and her daughter, Jo, showed up only a day before the baby. True to his word, the labor was fast and over quick.

“Hardly needed me at all,” Ellen told the new grandfather and uncle as she let them into the room. Dean lay on his side sleepily gazing at his new baby girl, refusing any offer to let anyone else hold her. She was the healthiest one yet and her cries made sure everyone knew how strong her lungs were. On the birth certificate they only listed Dean as the father with some BS story about the mother spewed out. Little Samantha Winchester didn’t know all this or care. She just knew she belonged with Dean and that he took care of her. Whether it was a newborn’s instinct or Dean’s own fear rubbing off on her, she barely tolerated being separated from her father. She allowed John, Sam, Ellen, and Jo to hold her from time to time, but if a stranger tried, she’d scream her head off.

The young father was okay with that and while he thanked the women for their help that first week, he was almost relieved to see them go. John stayed a couple of weeks longer until Dean started bombarding him with possible leads of demon activity or orphans with unknown parentage. Taking the hint, he bid his sons goodbye and hit the road once more with a promise to come back for Dean in a few months. And then, for the first time in year it was just the brothers together. Sam started school and Dean relished making his own decisions. Weeks turned into months and when John called late telling them he’d be even longer coming back, Dean didn’t mind. Especially when he told them the latest lead he was following – Master’s real name was Jason Patton and he might be in Oklahoma. Sam wished him luck and the conversation was over.

* * * * *

Dean’s eyes snapped open and he strained his ears, listening for whatever had woken him. When he heard the whispering of Sammy and his new girlfriend through the thin wall separating their rooms, Dean almost rolled over to go back to sleep, but the uneasy feeling was too strong. Instead he rolled to his feet, pausing to peer down at his daughter’s sleeping form. Silently he checked the gun his own father had given him on his last visit. When John had come back for him, Dean had hesitantly asked to stay longer. Both John and Sam had been surprised, but readily accepted. That had been almost eight months ago.

Pushing his door open as quietly as possible, Dean padded down the hall towards the living room. Nothing seemed amiss. The uneasiness stayed and he played with the idea of interrupting Sam.

“Dean?” Jess asked sleepily flipping on the hall light behind them.

He turned around to reassure her, but the words froze as he caught sight of the shadow behind her. Years of captivity screamed at him that he had disobeyed and deserved whatever punishment was coming his way, while instinct told him to fight back and protect the others in the house. “Look out!” he yelled even as he rushed forward reaching for his brother’s girlfriend to pull her from harm’s way.

The intruder got to her first. “Dean,” Master – no Jason, Dean reminded himself, greeted pulling Jess tight to his chest pressing a gun to her temple. “You’re not where I left you.” A disheveled Sam appeared in his doorway, his own gun at the ready as his niece let out a piercing cry from further down the hall. “Another one, Dean? You’re like a freaking baby factory,” Jason jeered, positioning himself where he could see Sam also. “Did younger brother decide to take you for a ride also or…” a dramatic pause, “…is this one mine too?”

Dean clenched his teeth as Sam tightened his grip on his gun, an inarticulate growl escaping his throat.

“What – ?” Jess started trying to make sense of the conversation. How could both this man and Dean be the baby’s father?

Jason breathed in her ear grinning at his former captive. “You mean they didn’t tell you?” he laughed. “Your boyfriend’s brother here is my pet whore. I made a deal with the demon that killed their mother so he could get pregnant. You should see it. He’s so pretty all fat and pregnant.” A nostalgic sigh. “Of course then he goes and has those squawking little things.” Samantha continued crying as if proving his point,

Disbelief and horror played on Jess’s face even as Dean avoided her eyes. “Let her go,” he ordered hoarsely expecting the anger he saw flash in the other man’s eyes. Master had never liked the sound of his voice, especially after it had deepened in puberty.

“Who told you that you were allowed to speak?”

Defiantly Dean lifted his chin and straightened to his full height, “I am not yours!”

Distracted by his anger, Jason loosened his hold on Jess enough for her to shove his gun up towards the ceiling. Seeing the opportunity, Sam leapt forward grasping his girlfriend’s arm and swung her away from the intruder. The loud gun shot was sure to wake the neighbors. Samantha continued to wail and Dean glanced anxiously past where his brother wrestled with the man for control of the gun. Jess was out the way, but now Sammy was in the way. Sirens faded into hearing range indicating at least one neighbor had heard. The gun went off a second time, shattering the hall light. A third discharge and the front door burst open. Samantha’s crying had reached nuclear levels.

Dean didn’t know when he let go of his own gun, but looked down surprised at the pain when unfamiliar hands pressed against his shoulder. When had he sat down? More lights had been flipped on to counteract the darkness of the night and Jason was shouting threats and obscenities towards Dean as he struggled against the officers who had him pinned to the floor. Sam had his hands up letting officers take the gun from his fingers.

“Samantha?” Dean groaned strangely tired and then Jess appeared bringing the crying baby to him. “When did I get shot?” Dean asked her as she knelt down beside him.

“Sir?” the paramedic was talking to him. What had he been asked? 

The elder Winchester brother looked over where Mast – Jason and Sammy had been fighting. Only Sam remained talking quietly with a uniformed officer. Fear clenched his gut. It was never a good thing when Master was out of site when he was already angry. The punishment when he came back would be twice as bad. “Where is he?” Dean asked.

Someone, probably Jess, said something in answer, but Dean didn’t hear it, his eyes were already caught on his daughter. He reached for her, immediately desiring the comforting weight of her in his arms. The pain from moving was unimportant and he ignored it.

Samantha quieted in his arms and the world gradually came back into focus. With a gentle hand on his arm, Jess pulled his attention to her. “Dean?” she started. “Officer Dimitri would like to ask you a few questions.” It was the same policeman Dean had seen talking to Sam.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked instead. He most definitely did not want to talk to the cops, but, then again, without the cops Master had managed find him again and if he wanted answers they were the ones that had that bastard in custody.

Jess smiled at him, “Sam’s right over there in the living room.”

After his eyes confirmed her words, Dean turned back to the standing police officer. “Help me up,” Dean half demanded – half asked. The paramedic made a noise of disapproval when he refused to give up Samantha to perform the endeavor and instead irritated his shoulder wound. He winced at the stab of pain, but continued on anyway. Standing up he suddenly realized how drained he was and forced back the faint weakness that tried to overpower him, probably from the blood loss.

“Can your talk wait until we get him to the hospital?” Sam asked taking Samantha from Dean’s suddenly limp arms.

When Officer Dimitri finally got his talk with Dean hours later, the elder Winchester brother reluctantly shared the bare minimum of his captivity and rescue and just enough of the supernatural to feel the officer out – to see if he would believe the full truth. And if the police officer didn’t believe him, Dean could later write it off as delusions from the trauma he had experienced.

The officer was hard to read and simply listened to Dean’s answers without any added comments. The FBI showed up a few days later with more questions. “Why do the FBI care about a home invasion,” Sam asked arms crossed standing between the pair of agents and the open front door. Dean watched out of the corner of his eye from his seat on the couch. He was still getting the hang of feeding Samantha her bottle with only one working arm. The other was immobilized in a sling to keep him from reopening the wound…again.

The answer they gave was complete BS, but they started firing questions anyway. “Did you notice anything strange?” the graying agent asked Sam.

“Strange how?”

“Like the smell of sulfur or –”

“Sulfur?” Sam interrupted, “You’re not FBI. Are you two hunters?”

The pair glanced at each other communicating without words the way long term partners often did, “You know about hunters?”

Jess half growled from the kitchen and closed the text book she had been pretending to study from. “Someone had better start explaining what is going on!” she declared drawing all eyes her direction.

“You’re not going to like it,” Dean told her as Sam ushered the hunters inside. They introduced themselves and gathered in the small living room settling in for an uncomfortable conversation. Paul was the older of the two using his experience to teach and guide the younger Tom, who looked barely older than either Winchester brother. Without even realizing what he was doing, Sam settled himself between his older brother and the others, a protective shield against the rest of the world.

Sam sighed and turned to his girlfriend. This wasn’t a conversation he had ever wanted to have with her. “Jess, do you believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah…” she quirked her mouth. “What does that…”

“What about werewolves, poltergeists, demons? Do you believe in those?”

For a moment she just stared at him, “Werewolves…?”

“Yeah,” the younger Winchester brother cleared his throat rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “They’re all real.”

“Ok,” she replied noncommittally, not quite ready to call her boyfriend out as a liar yet, but not ready to believe werewolves existed either. “So…‘hunters’…hunt these things?”

Sam nodded as the shorter man turned to him and asked, “How do you know about hunters?”

“Our dad is a hunter,” Sam stated. “We grew up in the life.”

“So the man that broke in here…” Jess started disbelief evident in her voice.

Dean broke in here, “He’s human.”

“But the things he said, about making a deal with a demon, is that true? He’s not…crazy?”

“Unfortunately,” Sam answered and went on to explain how their mother was killed by a demon and then how ten years later Dean was kidnapped. He explained how his older brother’s kidnapper made a deal with that very same demon. “What put you on his trail?” the younger Winchester asked once he was done with his explanation.

“Jason Patton killed my brother.”

Dean’s head snapped towards the shorter younger man. “Boy…” he breathed regretting now that he hadn’t learned the kid’s name. Louder he asked, “About five or so years ago? He was only about fourteen-ish?”

Tom nodded, eyes glued to Dean. “Yeah…you – you met him?”

“A nod, “I-,” his eyes glazed over at the rush of memories, before Dean shook himself. “I had hoped he lived. I…begged for his freedom…Mas-he told me to keep him interested,” the last word turned bitter and he barely noticed all the eyes locked on him in silent horror. “So…I tried and he took him away the next day.” Dean’s eyes focused on the other man guilt and shame plain to see, “I’m sorry I –”

“No!” Tom cut him off with the half-choked word. He cleared his throat and tried again, “No, you have nothing to be sorry for. It all falls on that sorry SOB.”

Dean nodded gratefully allowing some of the guilt to ease from his features, “What was his name? I only ever heard him called, ‘Boy.’”

“Jack. His name was Jack.”

“So, what got you from human child molester to searching for demon signs?” Sam asked after a moment.

“I was hunting the demons over in Iowa and Tom here was tracking down this human monster when our trails crossed and we realized that either this Jason Patton was either following or going with the demon I was tracking.” Paul turned to Dean, “You sure he’s not possessed?”

“He wasn’t, but he’s been looking to make another deal without selling his soul. He didn’t like me as much after puberty…”

After Tom and Paul left, Dean called John and repeated their story to his father while Sam turned his full attention to his shell-shocked girlfriend.

“I want to believe you. I do,” Jess said, “but it’s just so…”

Her boyfriend nodded with a self-deprecating chuckle, “I know. It’s crazy. It’s too much. I’m so sorry, Jess. I wanted to protect you from all of this.”

She gave him a killer glare, “Ignorance is not protection.”

“Do you think he killed all of them?” Dean’s hopeless question interrupted them. He had dropped the phone carelessly on the couch beside him and was watching Samantha where she cooed on the floor grabbing at her toes.

“Oh, Dean,” Jess breathed sympathetically, plopping down beside him and gathering him in her arms. “How many others were there?”

“Seven,” came the muffled answer from where he buried his face in her shoulder. There was nothing she could say to make that better, so Jess didn’t try. She just silently held him in her arms offering what little comfort she could.

Jason Patton turned out to be a dead end, as far as finding demons. He had been following the same clues as the hunters trying to track down a demon to make his deal with, to no avail. Tom helped the local police connect him to several other assaults and murders (including his own brother’s) before he left town to continue to help Paul track down actual demons.

The case went to court and Dean reluctantly agreed to testify, unsure of how to deal with his pregnancies if they were to come up. Fortunately, they didn’t. It was just something that neither the prosecution nor defense could believe actually happened with either group of attorneys came across any hints of it. But it did come to light that Jason had forced Dean to father multiple children. Somehow talk of his babies’ mothers never came up.

As Dean stood from answering the lawyers’ questions, Jason’s sneering eyes caught his. Half-rising pulling against the restraining hand on his arm, the defendant taunted, “I killed them all! It was so easy.” He threw out disgustingly vivid details as Dean felt the blood drain from his face and dropped back down into the chair. Others were shouting around him, but the terrible descriptions only stopped when the other man was physically dragged out of the court room.

“Son,” the judge was talking to him even as his own family had risen to come to him. “Are you okay?”

Dean nodded and then promptly turned and threw up. Strong arms wrapped him up and steered him from the witness stand. “I’ve got you,” John’s voice promised soothingly in his ear. 

He didn’t go to any more of the court for the rest of the trial, but Sam assured Dean that the bastard wouldn’t walk free. He had sealed his fate with his own angry outburst. There wasn’t anything more that Dean needed to say to ensure a guilty conviction.

* * * * *

“You’ll be alright?” Dean asked his younger brother for the hundredth time. He didn’t like leaving Sam, but he needed to feel safe again – not just for himself but for Samantha also. And he didn’t feel safe – not in that house or staying put anywhere – not anymore.

“Yes, Dean,” Sam patiently assured him once more. “We’ve moved into a new house and Dad personally helped me place all the wardings.”

“And Jessica has almost forgiven him for keeping secrets,” John interrupted closing the impala’s trunk on the last duffle bag.

The woman being spoken of leaned against her boyfriend and smiled, “He still has some groveling to do, but I think I’ll forgive him just this once as long as he’s not holding back some other huge secret.”

Samantha gurgled her agreement from her uncle’s arms.

“Alright, alright,” Dean conceded reaching out for a goodbye hug from his brother’s girlfriend. “Take care of him for me, will ya?”

She pecked him on the cheek, “Of course.” When they released she added, “And make sure you call and come visit!”

“I will,” Dean agreed easily before turning to give his farewells to Sam also. John stepped in behind his oldest son to exchange his own more somewhat more reserved hugs with the young woman as Dean strapped Samantha securely into her car seat.

“Here,” John pressed the car keys into Dean’s hands, “you drive.”

Dean looked up surprised. He had only recently gotten a license, but he wasn’t going to second guess his father’s decision and risk it being rescinded. He was in the driver’s seat in an instant. With one last wave, the impala roared to life and smoothly pulled out into the street. The younger man relished the trust his father showed as he relaxed back into the passenger seat. He had the control over the direction they would take. For the first time he was in charge of where his life was heading and Dean couldn’t be more thrilled.

Samantha giggled from behind him.

“Amen, baby girl,” Dean murmured his agreement.

John smiled and let his eyes drift shut. For the moment, anyway, his sons were safe and happy, and life was good.

 

The End


End file.
